“Of course I have,” Cassie scoffed.
There were plenty of weekends right after Seth where she’d gone home with people. When she thought about it, though—there had been other people since Seth, yes, but since Erin? Since that first night in the bar at Family Weekend? She’d made out with Emerson and tried to feel Gwen up at a party. That was it. She couldn’t quite believe it, but that was it.
She didn’t like thinking about it, and she didn’t like the look Acacia gave her, so she pushed back.
“Even if I did want to date her, how would that work? How would I date my friend’s mom who lives in New Hampshire?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Acacia said, faux confused. “Probably you’d text her every day and cook dinner together on FaceTime and get a job in Boston to spend time—”
“That’s low,” Cassie interrupted. “I got the job because it’s fucking great. It has nothing to do with Erin.”
Acacia’s shoulders slumped. “I know, you’re right. I’m sorry. But I’m just saying that it’s possible—”
“It doesn’t matter that it’s possible; I don’t want to date Parker’s mom.”
Her stomach twisted. This whole conversation made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to date Erin. She didn’t want to date anyone.
“Being aromantic is a thing, you know?” Cassie said.
Acacia glared at her. “Don’t commandeer a real identity just because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”
Cassie decided maybe she wouldn’t talk to Acacia about Erin anymore.
* * *
She did actually manage to avoid talking to Kaysh about Erin. Busy buckling down for finals and arrangements for the summer, they didn’t have time for lectures on feelings.
Erin helped her land an apartment that Cassie had no idea how she was going to fill with stuff. It wasn’t even a studio. But that was the only bad thing about the place. She’d be able to walk to work, plus the apartment came with a parking spot for when she bought a motorbike once she settled in—she needed something to get her up to Nashua on weekends to hang out with Parker. Among other things.
With only a few weeks of her college career left, Cassie lay spread across the floor of Parker and Acacia’s dorm. There were so many things she should’ve been doing. She closed her eyes instead.
“When are you done with school stuff?” Parker asked.
“Graduation is Sunday, even though I technically still have my calc exam Monday and neurobio Tuesday,” Cassie said. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna walk.”
“Why would you not walk?” Cassie’s eyes were still closed, but Parker suddenly sounded like she was paying more attention.
“Who wants to sweat in one of those robes while professors drone on about how we’re gonna change the world?” She shrugged. “Though Upton will probably be pissed if I skip it.”
“I’ll be pissed if you skip it, Klein,” Acacia said. “I already bought the air horn.”
Cassie looked at her best friend, who was studying on the futon, her laptop and textbook open in front of her. “Kaysh, I’m like 90 percent sure air horns are not allowed.”
Acacia raised her eyebrows, unimpressed.
“Surely your family’s coming, though, right?” Parker asked Acacia.
“My parents are going to a wedding that weekend, and Emerson can’t afford it.”
It was fine, obviously, that they couldn’t come. Cassie had never even asked them. When they had asked about graduation weekend so they could plan their schedule, she’d asked why. She hadn’t expected them to come, so it didn’t matter that they couldn’t. It would’ve been fun, sure, but no big deal.
“You’re absolutely walking, though,” Acacia was still talking. “Because we’re still gonna come.”
Cassie scowled. “You’re really gonna make me put on that stupid gown just to walk across a stage and get handed something that doesn’t even have my diploma in it because I won’t officially have passed all my classes yet?”
“Yeah. You’re gonna put on the gown, and take pictures, and deal with us making a goddamn fuss about you because graduating from college is a big fucking deal.”
Cassie could acknowledge that, if she thought about it rationally. Objectively. It just felt weird, celebrating something that was only step one in her plan. Couldn’t go to grad school if you didn’t graduate college first.